


Some Wounds Simply Won't Heal

by EzzyAlpha



Series: 100 Themes Challenge [8]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Trolls and Humans Living Together, Child Abandonment, F/F, Parent/Child Incest, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-23
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 10:44:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EzzyAlpha/pseuds/EzzyAlpha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roxy is a war veteran turned space station engineer, working for the Alternian army, who returns to Earth after a long time, and attempts to reconnect with her daughter.</p><p>Rose just finished highschool and really wants to kiss her mother.</p><p>[100 Themes Challenge: 86-Picking up the pieces]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Was going to be a oneshot but it's running a bit long. Second part should be here soon.

The creak of the front door is enough to wake up Rose, her eyes opening in a moment of panic. She listens carefully, not daring to move, listens to the running of the waterfall and the steps inside the house that she is supposed to be alone in. The footsteps aren’t light, nimble like a burglar, but heavy and dragging, with a obvious slight limp. She closes her eyes again, because she’s not afraid anymore, in fact, all fear washes away from her.

Rose gets up, stands behind her bedroom door before opening it, pauses, hesitates, takes her time, walks to the living room holding her breath. She stands in the doorway, quiet, sneaks in. Her mother walks from the kitchen to the living room, limping, her bad ankle, a remnant from her stay in the Alternian army, must be giving her trouble. She sits down, and her face is just as Rose remembers, but older, tired. It hasn’t been that long since she last saw her, but it feels like forever to Rose. She doesn’t think her mother can see her from here. It’s dark and she’s tired, looking away, out the window.

“Mom?” she calls out. Not mommy, like when she was a child, living with Bro and Dave, only seeing her mother once a year when she was on leave, nor mother, like in her early teenagehood, so resentful but still striving for her mother’s approval. No, she has put away childish things. Mom it is.

Her mother doesn’t move, but she smiles, and it’s glorious, like she’s suddenly 20 years old again. Rose walks into the living room, quiet but no longer sneaky. At last, her mother leans back on the armchair and turns to look at her.

“Hey, darling. I thought you would be asleep by now.”

It takes every ounce of willpower for Rose to not break down and launch herself at her mother. She walks to her, and she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, she doesn’t know if she should say something or if she should hug her or-

She reaches the armchair and her mother grabs her hand, time stops on its tracks, in fact, it goes completely off the tracks, it’s a timewreck, there is no longer time, only the feeling of her mother’s rough, slender fingers curled around her own, squeezing slightly. Rose’s eyes are focused on those fingers. They show the passing of time and history, written in creases and scars.

“Rose?”

“I was in bed.” the words come out stilted, frozen. It’s not what she wants to say. She wants to scream out in love and admiration, but she can’t. Instead, she makes small talk. “I thought you would still be in the lab?”

“I left early. There wasn’t much to be done.”

Her mother hesitates, a slight downturn of her lips, before grinning.

“In fact, I’m done for the year.”

Rose tries to keep her expression level, but her eyebrows shoot up, her lower lip trembles a little. She hopes her mother didn’t notice, but by the way her smile no longer reaches her eyes, she has.

“That is great. That is phenomenal. Can I get you something to drink? Tea, that is. Or something else.” Rose doesn’t stammer, she rambles, and goes off in tangents, she avoids and she doesn't think before she speaks. Not when she’s like this, fighting off bliss and happiness, because she’s still not entirely sure about how she’s supposed to act around her mother.

“Honey, this is my house. If I wanted tea, I would get some.”

Rose lets her head drop, staring at their hands again.

“But you must be so tired.”

She is left staring at the floor because her mother pulls her hand in for a kiss, her lips pressing against Rose’s knuckles. Rose feels her face heat up, a blush spreading through her cheeks instantaneously.

“Darling, I’m fine. I’m home.”

Rose nods once.

“Yeah. You are.”

“You should sleep.”

“No.” Rose doesn’t sound angry or upset, but she has made up her mind. She sits on the arm of the chair, still holding her mother’s hand, squeezing back ever so slightly.

“I’ll still be here tomorrow.”

“Ah.” mutters Rose, for lack of a better response.

“And for the next six months. Maybe seven or eight.”

“You’ll be here for my birthday?”

“Yes.”

“And Christmas?”

“Since when do we celebrate Christmas?”

“Can we?”

“Of course.”

“Ask bro and Dave to fly down.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a prolonged moment of comfortable silence.

“I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I know your job takes a lot of time.”

“I’ve left you alone-”

“I’m fine. I do well alone.”

“When was the last time I saw you?”

“Two months.” she says, and the sentence completes in her head; two months, three days, seven hours. “But you’re here now. I don’t blame you.” Not anymore.

“If you say so.”

“And I do. I do say so, because I understand.”

There’s another pause, but it’s cold.

“When did you grow up?”

It takes all she has for Rose to avoid saying when you  weren’t here, but she restrains herself. She doesn’t want to blame her, she doesn’t want to be upset.

Mostly, she wants to kiss her. Like, a lot. She doesn’t blush, for she has settled with those thoughts a long time ago. Mostly, she wonders if she could just, slip a little, to the left there…

“Mom, can I hug you?”

The question falls from her mouth. She didn’t want to say it, but she had to. She simply isn’t as comfortable with her mother as she should be. As she wanted to be.

Her mother’s eyes widen in surprise, before her eyebrows lower.

“Of course you can, why would you ask that?”

“I don’t know.” and she doesn't; logically, she has no reasons to. “I just wanted to make sure.”

She slides from the armrest onto her mother’s lap, her arms gripping around her waist tightly. Her mother is surprised, but not unpleasantly so, and she hugs her back, kisses the top of her head.

“You’re being awfully affectionate tonight.”

“I missed you. I’m glad you’re home.”

“Alright.”

Her mother reaches up to ruffle her hair.

Rose is small, smaller than her mother at least. She got the literal short end of the stick when it came to genetics. She has her nose stuck in her mother’s neck, her hair is tickling her, her arms hurt from how tight she is hugging her, but she doesn’t want to back away.

“Let’s do something tomorrow.” her mother says, still stroking her head.

“Alright. Like what?”

“Movie, maybe. Or, do you not like going to the movies?”

“Ah. Not really.”

“A museum then.”

“That sounds good. Won’t you be bored?”

“Of course not. I’ll be with you.”

There’s a pang of pain and guilt in Rose’s heart. She knows her mother didn’t mean what she wanted it to mean, but a girl can dream.

“Mom?” she calls out weak and tender, leaning back ever so slightly to look up at her. Her mother tilts her head, looking into her eyes. Rose has always thought her mother’s eyes were fantastic.

“I miss you.”

“I know, darling.” her mother whispers, pulling her close, as close as possible.

Rose leans forward, tilts her head up, her lips brush against her mother’s, and her eyes close, just for a second. Then, she leans back, opens her eyes, looks back at her mother, who is staring back with an indecipherable expression.

“You should sleep. It’s late.”

“Oh.”

Rose gets up. She wonders if the house was always this cold, even though it’s mid June. She starts to walk back to her room, but stops at the doorway and looks back.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

No, you don’t, thinks Rose, not as much as I do, and certainly not in the same way. But she smiles, and begins to walk up the stairs.

“Sleep well, darling.” her mother’s voice is tired, like she’s used up all her energy and can barely keep going.

“You too.” Rose doesn't stop until she reaches her room, her bed, crawls under the covers, wishing desperately she could stay in her mother’s arms.

-

Morning comes without much fanfare. Roxy crawls out of bed, limps to the kitchen, looks for the tea, gets distracted by a squirrel running around outside, returns to trying to find the tea and ends up sitting at the kitchen table, thoroughly confused. Just one of those days, she thinks. She ends up finding an unopened box of green tea bags in the back of a cabinet.

Boil water.

Place bag in cup.

Pour.

Spill.

Burn yourself cleaning the spill.

Add sugar.

Add milk.

Add more sugar.

Drink.

Burn your tongue.

Roxy finds herself staring outside again, her tea getting cold on the table. Were it a few months earlier, the forest would be covered in snow. But it’s not. She had something to do today, but she can’t recall-

Rose. Right. Museum. She reaches up to rub at the bridge of her nose, her thoughts scrambled. This is the sort of thing that almost got her culled when she was in the army. Had she not been their best engineer, and pretty handy with a rifle, she wouldn’t be here today. As ruthless as they were, at least they paid well.

The tea in front of her is long gone cold, but she drinks it anyway, briefly wondering when Rose will wake up. As an afterthought, she raises her fingers to her lips, pressing softly against them, and closes her eyes.

Oh.

That happened, didn’t it?

She’s unsure of how to react. She’s sure the way she did react was inappropriate.

Should she scold Rose? Tell her that’s not alright, to never do it again?

Roxy doesn’t want to do that, but she doesn’t know why.

She realizes she’s neglecting her tea again and sighs. Everytime. Every fucking time.

Roxy doesn’t want to push Rose away. She wants to stay with her, to enjoy the company of her daughter, because she hasn’t had that privilege in a long time. And Rose misses her, she obviously does. It was nothing. Roxy has always wanted to take Rose on a big trip, maybe when she turned eighteen-

Hold on, she is eighteen. She turned eighteen six months ago.

Roxy’s elbows dig into the soft towel on the table, pushing it forward, and she presses her hands against her face. Spending almost a year straight on a space stations doesn’t do wonders for your mental issues, nor your understanding of the passage of time. She’s starting to think about quitting. Leave the job, hang her lab coat, sayonara motherfuckers, I’m done with this shit, I’m moving to Peru and y’all army bastards can try and track me.

Roxy snaps out of it when she hears thumping down the stairs, the familiar creak of the 5th step, which she needs to fix before it breaks for good, Rose could get hurt. The thumps stop right before the kitchen.

“Good morning.” Roxy says, and she sips her cold tea.

“Morning, mom.”

Rose, at last, walks into the kitchen. She hesitates upon seeing her mother, but carries on, towards the cabinet, from which she removes a box of cereal. She looks into the fridge, eyebrows drawn in confusion.

“Oh!” says Roxy, picking up the carton of milk so Rose can see it. Rose stares at her, eventually smiling softly, and retrieves a bowl from the sink before sitting in front of her mother. She stares down at the bowl and gets up, picks up a spoon, sits back down. She pours the milk, followed by the cereal, some store brand version of Rice Krispies. Roxy chuckles quietly and Rose looks up at her,

“You still do that.”

“Do what?”

“Milk before the cereal.”

Rose blushes and stares down at the bowl.

“It makes no difference.”

“It’s just unusual. Cute.”

The blush across her cheeks only deepens.

“Mom, please. It’s only a quirk.”

Roxy smiles, props her head up on her hand, stares at Rose with a little smile on her lips, but it reaches her eyes. Rose wonders if this is what love looks like. She chases the thought away, concentrates on eating, concentrates on breathing.

“Excited about going out today?”

Rose looks up at her mother, blinks a few times.

“Huh?” she says, with all the grace of a truck crashing through a wall. Roxy giggles and sips her tea again.

“And here I was, worried that I forgot about it. The museum trip.”

“Oh.”

Rose reaches up to rub at the bridge of her nose.

“You still want to do that?”

Roxy’s eyebrows raise, she pouts slightly.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Nevermind.”

“...You thought I was going to bail on you again, didn’t you.”

Rose doesn’t want to admit it. She doesn’t want to admit she doesn’t trust her mother, that she doesn’t believe she wants to spend time with her. She stares down at her half-eaten breakfast.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Rose.”

Rose flinches, curls up a little, stares down at the milk pooled on the spoon, in silence.

“I’m sorry.”

She tentatively looks up, finds her mother avoiding her gaze.

“I...You don’t have to be.” she says, the sentence almost ending in a question mark from confusion.

“Yes, I do. Rose, I left you alone.”

Rose looks back down, concentrates on her hands, curled into tight fists.

“First, I left you for the army, left you with Dirk, let him raise you while I was off getting my ass shot at while trying to fix tanks in some fuckfar away planet. Then, I left you for a bottle, too drunk to even remember I had a daughter, almost lost you that one time, maybe I should have lost you-”

“Don’t say that!” Rose’s voice is strained, a held back scream, and she snaps her gaze up to glare at her mother, before her expression softens and she looks back at her fists. There’s blood seeping through her fingers, she must have broken the soft skin of her palms with her nails. She doesn’t care right now.

“Don’t say that. Please.”

“I kicked the habit, only to leave again, literally leaving you alone this time, shipped off to some space station.”

Rose sniffles. She’s not going to cry, not in front of her mother.

“You had to. You have duties.”

“You should have been my first priority.”

“I was fine. I’m fine.” her voice cracks a little, but she’s not going to cry, not going to cry, not going to cry, god fucking dammit, she won’t cry.

“Rose. Look at me, darling.”

Rose clenches her fists tighter; she can’t feel anything anymore.

“Rose. Please.”

Rose looks up and there are tears on her mother’s face. She breaks, takes a deep breath that cracks, follows into a low whine that becomes a wail, tears that have threatened to spill out all morning completely overflowing, her face scrunched up and red. Roxy swears under her breath and gets up, throws her arms around Rose to pull her close, press her against her chest. Rose doesn’t resist.

“Darling, please, I’m sorry, I-”

Rose sobs loudly into her mother’s chest, arms limp by her side.

“You’re home.” she says, quiet and hopeful “You’re home but-” A sob interrupts her. Roxy runs her fingers through Rose’s hair, hold her tightly, might as well start crying too. A tear drips on her hand, that is pressed against the top of Rose’s head.

“I don’t want you to go.” says Rose at last.

“I won’t go anywhere. For a while, at least.”

“I don’t want you to go ever again.”

“Rose, I can’t do that.” Roxy’s voice is low, whispered, hesitant. She doesn’t want to say it but she has to. She has duties.

It takes her a moment to realize what she’s thinking, how she has made her job her duty, rather than her daughter, and she freezes in shock, before pulling in Rose tighter.

“I’m so sorry…” her tone is quiet, but firm.

Rose leans back, pushes her away, looks up at her.

“Are you really?”

“Of course I am.” Roxy is surprised but it fades from her face as quickly as it came. Of course she doesn’t believe her.

Roxy walks away.

“Mom?” Rose is alarmed, doesn’t bother trying to hide it. Roxy grabs a paper towel from the rack, returns to Rose, wipes the snot and tears off her face.

“You’ll be alright.”

Rose sniffles, and reaches forward to hug her mother.


	2. Chapter 2

“This is more boring than I had expected.”

“Yeah.”

“I would have expected them to have better expositions in the summer.”

“Why?”

“Because people have more time to visit museums in the summer.”

“Who goes to a museum in their vacation.”

“Us, apparently.”

“Oh. You’re not having fun, are you?”

Rose turns to her and smiles apologetically.

“I’ve seen this all before, a few times.”

Roxy sighs.

“There aren’t many museums around.”

“That’s because we live in fuck nowhere.”

“Language, darling.”

Rose raises her eyebrows and tilts her head towards her mother, who sighs and rolls her eyes.

“Just let me pretend I’m a good mother.”

Rose’s expression softens, and she grasps her mother’s hand.

“Mom, it’s alright, Please, we’ve both done enough crying for the day.”

Rose tugs her towards the exit, putting on a smile. Roxy is quiet, but follows her.

It’s a warm day, dry too. Not many people walking around. Roxy reaches up to shield her eyes from the sun, presses her arm against her forehead and squints.

“It’s not that bright.” says Rose, punctuating it with a giggle. Roxy sticks her tongue out at her and Rose playfully swats her arm.

“It’s bright. I was stuck in an artificially lit environment for two months. It’s far too bright.”

“You’ll live.”

“But not comfortably.”

It takes a moment for Rose to realize she’s still holding her mother’s hand. She wonders if onlookers would think they are a couple. She sighs, realizing they look far too similar for that to ever happen.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes, mom. Don’t concern yourself, I’m fine. It’s a warm day.”

Rose lets go of her hand, wipes off the sweat on her jeans. She hopes her mother will think she is flushed from the heat. She looks up just in time to see someone wave to her, across the street, and she sighs, waving back.

“Friend of yours?”

Rose looks back at her mother. She looks surprised, maybe a little amused, definitely curious.

“Classmate.”

“You went to school with trolls?”

There’s a pause.

“That is a bit offensive, isn’t it?” mutters Roxy, reaching up to rub at the bridge of her nose “Trolls have been going to human schools for, what, five years?”

“Four. You were already working on the station.”

“So, does your friend have a name? She looks familiar.”

“Classmate. Pyrope. Terezi Pyrope.”

Roxy’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Get out.”

Rose eyes her, amused.

“What?”

“I had a Pyrope in my squad, when I was on the front line. Must be her ancestor. Went by Redglare usually, though.”

Rose hums quietly, looks back at Terezi.

“Legislacerator ?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you must be right. Terezi never shut up about that.”

Roxy chuckles, before looking thoughtful.

“How did school go this past year, anyway?”

“You’ll be happy to know I graduated. With honors. Like I told you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what can you possibly mean?”

“Make any friends?”

Rose freezes, looks downwards.

“Rose…”

“I’m sorry.”

Roxy goes quiet, watching her daughter’s reaction.

“There’s no reason for apologizing, I’m not upset. I’m just worried about you. You know, people usually have friends that live in the same state as them, at least.”

“I’m fairly unusual, am I not?”

Roxy had lead Rose into the city park, sits her down at the nearest picnic table. The place is empty, no one around, not a single soul wandering.

“Were you friendly, at least.”

“As friendly as I can get.”

“Oh dear god, your poor classmates.”

Rose rolls her eyes.

“i’ve had it with your snark.”

“That’s my line.” Roxy mutters, before leaning down to kiss Rose’s forehead. Rose freezes but soon relaxes.

“Mom…”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

Rose looks downwards. The table is painted green, chipped in places, covered in graffiti, and the grass is dry and yellowish.

“Rose? Are you alright?”

Rose looks up.

“Promise me you won’t go. For the rest of the year, at least. No matter what.”

“I promise.”

“You didn’t think about it. It’s not a real promise.”

“I promise that no matter what, I will stay, I will stay here with you, in our bigass house in the middle of fuck nowhere, no matter what anyone else wants. That’s a real promise.”

“Language.”

Roxy smirks and tilts her head.

“Happy?”

Rose hesitates, before smiling.

“Yes.”

“Anything else on your mind?”

Rose thinks back to yesterday. When she kissed her. Her tongue darts between her lips and she looks back down.

“No.”

“Rose?”

“No. Nevermind. Let’s go home.”

-

Roxy doesn’t sleep well. She doesn’t fall asleep quick, she tosses and turns, she has nightmares and sleep paralysis, and she goes to bed at 9 pm hoping that she will have slept enough by the time she is forced to wake up. But she is no longer forced to wake up. She has nothing to do in the morning anymore, no engine checks, no computer calibrating, route aligning or anything else.

When she wakes up, it’s 3 pm. She stays in bed, thinking about Rose, who went to her room as soon as they came home the day before, and didn’t come out again, not even for dinner. Not hungry, she had said. Roxy rolls on her back, stares up at the ceiling.

She thought things would get better. Why was she acting so oddly now? her mind snaps back to the night of her arrival, Rose’s weight on her lap, the feeling of her lips on her own, the faint perfume she wore.

Roxy sits up so fast her head spins, realizing she was thinking about kissing her teenage daughter, that the thought felt completely natural to her, as if kissing Rose was breathing.

-

At the lack of her prefered company, Rose brought Freud to bed with her. The book is heavy on her chest and she feels like she can’t breath, due to her thoughts more than the tome. The one thing she wanted the most has happened, and it makes her feel terrible. Fantasizing about her mother has proven to be better than actually being with, no, around her. When her mother was gone, it was easy to attribute emotions to her absence. Now that she is here, Rose feels like there is no excuse.

She wants to kiss her. Like, a lot.

She wants to kiss her, and do stupid couple stuff, the kind of things Rose mocked others for doing, things like holding hands all the time, and going on dates, or staying in and cuddling in front of the fireplace.

They don’t even have a fireplace.

Rose feels dumb.

The knock on the door brings her out of her thoughts with the force of a tidal wave.

“Yes?” she calls out, weakly. She doesn’t want her to come in. She doesn’t want to see her, she doesn’t want to talk to her, she doesn’t want to fantasize about kissing her again.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, her mother can’t hear her thoughts, and she opens the door, walking inside.

“Rose? Are you alright? It’s almost 4.”

Rose stares up at her, face smushed against the pillow. Her hair is sticking up and Roxy finds it hard to not giggle.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright. I ordered pizza.”

“Okay.”

“Are you going to come down and eat?”

Rose hesitates.  
“Sure.”

“Good. I’ll call you when it’s here.”

Roxy smiles and closes the door. Rose considers running after her, but she stays in bed, her arm hanging off the side, playing with the carpet. She could just say it. She could just walk up to her mother and say it. Maybe her mother would finally leave. Rose could stop being a bother to her, stop holding her back. Who knows how well off her mother could be if Rose wasn’t there to drag her down.

But, maybe, her mother wouldn’t leave. Maybe she...Could love her back. Like Rose loves her.

She doesn’t even realize she is crying until a sob escapes her lips. She turns to bury her face into the pillow, teeth clenching around the soft fabric so her mother won’t hear her scream, won’t worry herself.

The knock on the door brings her out of it and she sits up, horror spreading across her features. Please don’t come in, please don’t come in, please don’t-

The door handle shakes and Rose dives under the covers. She shivers, listens to the door open, her mother’s unasked question hanging in the air.

“...Rose? Darling?”

“Haven’t you ever heard about privacy?” Rose’s voice is strained, whining, cracking like she’s been crying all day instead of an hour. Her fingers clench around the bed covers, she shoves her face into the mattress, hoping that her mother will simply leave. The pressure on the bed tells her she won’t.

“Rose, what’s wrong?”

“Just go away.”

Roxy doesn’t know what to do. Comforting people has never been a skill of hers. Her hand hovers above where Rose’s back should be, but she doesn’t dare touch her.

“Are you upset because I’m home?” the words escape her mouth before she can stop them.

Rose doesn’t answer.

“Darling, talk to me.”

“I’m not your darling.”

There is an uncomfortable pause and Roxy shifts nervously, looking at the door.

“Just tell me what’s wrong.”

“I am.”

Roxy turns back, trying to stare through the comforter.

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m wrong. Everything I think about is wrong.” Rose’s voice is quiet and emotionless. It vaguely reminds Roxy of the robots up in the station. The thought terrifies her. She lies down on the bed, besides Rose.

“There is nothing wrong about you.”

“You have no idea.”

“Rose, stop it. You’re making me want to cry.”

Rose turns away, curls into herself, and Roxy sighs, reaching up to rub her forehead.

“Rose, please. Talk to me. It can’t hurt.”

“You have no idea.”

Roxy rolls on her side, drapes an arm around where Rose’s waist should be, tries to pull her close. Rose objects, fights against her, eventually gives up and lets herself be held. Roxy pulls the covers down, nuzzles into the back of Rose’s head.

“Please stop.” she whispers, voice trembling with fear. Roxy sighs and rests her forehead against her head.

“What can I do, Rose?”

“Nothing.”

“There has to be something, anything I can do to make you happy.”

“There isn’t.”

“I don’t know a lot of shit, Rose. But there are some things I’m good at. I’m good with technology, I’m good with a gun and I’m good at knowing when people are lying to me.”

Rose curls into herself even more and it pierces into Roxy’s heart, shatters her ribcage into a thousand little blood soaked pieces.

“Rose, come on. There’s nothing you can say that will upset me to the point of whatever ridiculous thing you are imagining will actually happen.”

“Shut up.”

“Rose. That’s not alright.”

“Just leave me alone.”

Roxy shakes her head, reaches up to play with Rose’s hair.

“I thought we had moved on past this.”

Rose feels guilty, she feels nothing but guilt, at this point she is guilt.

“Talk to me.”

“I love you.”

“I know. I love you too.”

Rose finally pushes her mother away, sits up, fresh tear trails on her cheeks, her hair still a mess.

“You don’t know. You don’t understand.”

Roxy sits up, confusion spreading through her face.

“I really don’t, so maybe you should try explaining.”

“Why didn’t you do anything when I kissed you?”

Silence.

Roxy stares at Rose, her expression not changing, stuck in a state of half-confusion, half-shock. Rose stares back, although she wants nothing more than to run away.

“I didn’t think it meant anything at the time.” Roxy’s voice is barely audible. “I was...I was tired, and so, so happy to see you.”

“At the time?”

Roxy looks down at the bed, inspects the kitten graphics on the covers, chuckles quietly.

“Why did you kiss me?”

“Because I love you.”

“Oh.”

“Do you hate me?”

Roxy’s head snaps towards Rose, her expression changing to full on horror.

“What?”

“I’m asking you if you hate me. Because...I love you. Romantically.”

Rose isn’t looking at her, she’s looking at some distant spot upwards to the left.

“Of course I don’t hate you, how could I possibly hate you?” Roxy says, in trembled words. All of her is trembled, overtaken by too much emotion, far too much. She’s feeling more right now than in the past year combined, something in the back of her head tells her her emotions had been stilted, stunted by too much time spent around trolls and machines. Rose is a mess, far tears dropping off her blank face, gaze still distant.

Time passes, too much time. Roxy doesn’t know what to do, she doesn’t have time to think. Time, time, time, she doesn’t have days or hours to decide on what to do, every second means more pain for Rose, and the last thing she wants is to see her little girl in pain.

Roxy grasps Rose’s cheeks, cups her face in her hands and tilts her head up. Something shifts in Rose’s eyes and her gaze is no longer distant, in fact, she’s staring right at her. Roxy shifts forward, eyes fluttering shut, and she presses a kiss to Rose’s lips, softer and gentler than she has ever kissed anyone before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lied about it being two parts.
> 
> It's running really long.


	3. Chapter 3

“Late at night, right before morning, I used to lay on the truck beds, watching the sky. I’d have to scurry back into the barracks before sunrise of course, but those precious few minutes, it was almost like I wasn’t caught up in the middle of a war, light years away from my home. And you.”

Rose’s back is hot against Roxy’s stomach. She wonders if Rose is feverish. People can get sick from anxiety, right?

“There’s two moons circling Alternia, y’know?”

“Yes.”

Rose’s voice is barely a whisper. She sounds tired.

“Green and violet. My favorite was always the violet one. You know why?”

“Because it reminded you of my eyes.”

“Have I told you this story?”

Rose shakes her head, tickling Roxy’s nose with her hair.

“It sounds like something you would say.”

“Well. I mean it.”

“I know you do. Or, at least, you are convinced you do.”

“Rose…”

Roxy sits up, presses her hands against her face, exhaling deeply.

“Do you want some tea? A snack? You don’t sound good.”

“I’m fine.”

She turns back to watch over Rose, still curled into herself, face flushed. There’s still two slices of pizza left, so Roxy picks up the box, along with the empty bottle of pop, and she walks to the kitchen. Bottle in the fridge, box in the trash. She pauses, looks back at the trash, quickly fishes out the box, tosses the remaining slices in a plate. Plate in the fridge, bottle in the trash.

Roxy stands over the sink, water dripping off her face, brushes back her bangs.

What the fuck did she do?

Rose’s lips are soft, young. She’s hesitant and unsure of herself, closes her eyes too tight, completely unable to relax. She smells of roses, fittingly enough, but also blueberries and mint. She’s blushing and panting softly and-

Roxy clamps her hand over her mouth. She realizes she had been pacing. More importantly, she realizes she’s thinking about how good kissing her daughter feels.

Like breathing.

Roxy leans against the wall, rubs at her face, tries to tear her hair out. Why did she do that? No sane person would consider that a solution. She stares right ahead, staring at nothing at all. Why did she do that? Rose was upset, she was very upset, and Roxy just wanted to make her feel better.

But maybe she did want to kiss her.

Shit.

Roxy brushes her bangs back again and runs up the stairs. Rose needs her, this is no time to have a breakdown. Roxy opens the door to her daughter’s room, leans against the doorway watching her.

“Hey.”

At the lack of a response, she walks inside, sits on the bed. Rose is fast asleep. Roxy sighs and leans down to kiss her forehead, brush her hair away with gentle motions, pulls on the covers to tuck her in, like when she was four and lived with Dirk, and Roxy only saw her every six months. Things haven’t changed that much, have they? How Roxy wishes she could stay besides her all night, but right now, she figures it’s best to leave her alone.

Roxy’s bed is big, far too big for her needs, and it only seems bigger this night. She can see the moon through the window, and it’s pale. She can’t sleep. Everything is too empty, too cold, too much for her to handle. Despite all her issues sleeping, this is the worst night in a while.

Roxy almost doesn’t hear the door open. Were she someplace else, she might panic, reach for the rifle under the bed, leave no prisoners. But she knows those steps, she knows that shadow on her wall. Rose lies down besides her, but she doesn’t come close, not yet. Roxy makes no signs of being awake, but she knows Rose is aware of it. She’s far too perceptive to let something like that slip away.

Eventually, Rose reaches out to wrap her arms around her mother’s waist. She’s sure of herself at first, but she’s holding on just a bit too tight, a bit too nervous. Roxy sighs and reaches to hold her hand.

“You weren’t there when I woke up.” Were they not so close together, it would be very easy for Roxy to simply not hear her at all.

“Didn’t know if you wanted me to stay.”

“Of course I did.”

“Figured it would be worse if I guessed wrong.”

“Mom.”

Roxy sighs and turns around, pulls Rose close, presses her lips against her forehead.

“You have a fever.”

“Huh?”

“You do. Have you been feeling well?”

Rose shifts.

“Not quite.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t think it was important. It’s just a slight cold.”

“If you have a fever, it’s not just a slight cold.”

“Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“You look pale.”

“Mom. That is my skin tone.”

Roxy leans back and sighs.

“Did you come here to bitch?”

Rose looks flustered, her gaze fixating on anything but her mother.

“I just want to be with you.”

“I know. You made that very clear.”

Her expression softens before falling completely, looking down at the bed with quivering lips. Roxy leans forward, tilts her head up at the last moment, kisses her forehead.

“Darling. It’s alright.”

“It’s not alright. Nothing is alright.”

Roxy holds her close, tightly, despite the overwhelming heat between them.

“Don’t say that. You’ll be alright. Eventually. You’re brave and brilliant, I know you will be alright.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know me. You were gone for half my life.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know you.”

“How can you?”

Roxy’s fingers tangle with Rose’s, and she squeezes her hand.

“I never finished my story, you know?”

“What?”

“About lying in truck beds. You know why those moments specifically are marked so firmly in my mind?”

“No.”

“Because that’s when I read Dirk’s emails.”

Rose’s gaze flicks over to her mother’s eyes, before going back to the bed, until she finally looks back up, watching her mother speak.

“He sent me emails every week, you know? About you. I didn’t get to watch you grow up, not for a while, but if I imagined it hard enough, I could. And that’s why I remember those truck beds so well, along with the crate storage in Beforus, and the various other places I remember solely because those moments were special to me.”

“You just made that up.”

Roxy rolls her eyes.

“I did not.”

She pulls Rose close once more, lips pressing against her forehead, and she closes her eyes.

“And, you know why I know you’re going to be alright?”

“Why?”

“Because you’re my daughter. And for all the terrible shit I’ve been through, I’m alright.”

“Are you really?”

“I’m happy. I’m with you.”

“Are you _with_ me?”

Roxy’s eyes open slowly.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I don’t know what I want. My life would be much easier if I did.”

“Do you love me?”

Rose pushes her mother away, looks up at her with the most horrified expression.

“Of course I do. I love you too much.”

“That is entirely impossibly.” Roxy smirks and lifts her hand to stroke Rose’s cheek. Rose pouts ever so slightly.

“Just tell me what you want.” hisses Rose, her brow furrowed. Roxy focuses on the little crease between her eyebrows, and she smirks.

“I want to make you happy. Which is to say, I want whatever you want.”

Rose is defenseless. The little crease disapears as her eyebrows tilt up, her mouth hanging open. With her cheek squished against the mattress, she looks fairly comical and Roxy can’t help but giggle quietly.

“What do you even mean?”

“Rose. What do you want?”

“I mostly want to kiss you a lot.”

Roxy tilts forward to kiss her, so soft and young and hesitant to kiss back. When she pulls away, she thinks Rose looks too hurt.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous.”

“Alright, you want to know what I want?” Roxy turns to rest on her back, grinning at the ceiling. “I want to make you happy. Ever since I got here, I’ve been thinking and thinking and thinking and my brain is as much as a jumbled mess as always, hence why I require so much thinking. I’ve paced, I’ve done laps on the stairs, I might have even ran around a little. And, as much as I wish for any other outcome, I keep coming to the same conclusion. I want to make you happy, because I’ve fucked you up enough. I mean, I fucked your life up, you’re fine, even with the whole wanting to kiss me deal. Honestly, you’re better than most people I’ve ever met, and I have no idea how.”

She closes her eyes, breathing slowly for a moment.

“We don’t have to call it a romance. We don’t have to do things just because we’re supposed to, if you want a different relationship with me, then I won’t force you to choose, I don’t know, you can have me as your mother and you can still kiss me, I don’t know! We don’t have to be quiet, and secret and- I’ll quit my job. We don’t need the money anymore. Leave the job, hang my lab coat, sayonara motherfuckers, I’m done with this shit, I’m moving to Peru and y’all army bastards can try and track me.”

She laughs quietly. Rose stares.

“Or I can just start the paperwork to remove myself from my position, although that would involve training my substitute and- It would just be a lot of work and a bit of time, except then I wouldn’t be committing a major offense, punishable by culling in Alternia and extended jail time here. Let’s count our blessings that the station is in ‘here’ jurisdiction. Rose?”

“I’m listening.”

“But you’re not saying anything.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

Roxy turns on her side again, opens her eyes to look over Rose, whose gaze is distant.

“Rose, I’m telling you, I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“It’s fucked up. We’re fucked up.”

“Maybe. By societal standards anyway, but since when do you care about that?”

“Do you actually have any feelings for me, or are you just trying to uplift me no matter what?”

Rose sobs quietly.

“Because, if you are, then I will have none of it. I want you to love me back, like I do, and that’s terribly selfish, so you’ll excuse me if I don’t have as great of an opinion of myself as you seem to have.”

“I do. I think I do.”

The distance in Rose’s gaze disappears, her eyes lock with her mother’s.

“You can’t possibly be serious?”

Roxy presses forward to kiss her again but Rose shoves her hand against her mother’s lower face.

“Quit trying to distract me.”

Roxy attemps to reply but it’s muffled. She settles for raising her eyebrows. Rose sighs and removes her hand.

“I’m serious. I think. I’ve certainly been thinking about...Kissing you a lot.”

“Have you?”

“Would I lie to you?”

“Yes.”

“Alright, I might’ve lied in the past, but this is too serious. Can I go back to hugging you, it’s cold.”

“Don’t take advantage of my fever.”

Nevertheless, Rose scoots closer to her mother, closing her eyes as her arms wrap around her.

“Let’s just get married.”

“Mom.”

“Move to Djibuti. Heh.”

“I thought it was Peru, and god, are you five years old?”

“Whatever.”

Roxy kisses her forehead again, but Rose tilts her head up to kiss her, less hesitant than before. Roxy plays with her hair, brushes it away from her face.

“I don’t know what I want.” mutters Rose as she pulls away.

“That’s alright.” Roxy presses her forehead against Rose’s. “You have time to think. Six, seven months. And I won’t rush you, or force you or-”

Rose kisses her again, more out of annoyance than anything else, but when she pulls away, she’s smiling.

“Thank you.”

It’s well past 5 am when they finally fall asleep, together, still holding each other.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go, now we're finished  
> *slinks away to sleep for 12 hours*

**Author's Note:**

> Trying to get into the habit of making specific playlists for specific fics, so I thought I could share.
> 
> 1- My Chemical Romance - The World Is Ugly  
> 2- Frank Sinatra - If You Go Away  
> 3- Florence and the Machine - No Light, No Light  
> 4- Ellie Goulding - The Writer  
> 5- Christina Perri - The Lonely  
> 6- The Jezabels - Deep Wide Ocean  
> 7- Rilo Kiley - Science vs Romance  
> 8- Marina and the Diamons - I Am Not A Robot  
> 9- Paramore - The Only Exception  
> 10- Imagine Dragons - Lost Cause
> 
> With Rainy Mood running in the background.


End file.
